


It's been a long, long time

by Little_Firestar84



Category: Darrow & Darrow (2017)
Genre: F/M, First Time, One Shot, Romance, Short One Shot, Widowed, darrow & Darrow - Freeform, post Witness to Murder: A Darrow Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: “Do you want to have coffee? A nightcap?”“Sure, why not? Lou’s having a sleepover and my mum was supposed to have dinner with Coach at his place- and she told me not to wait for her.”Miles sneakered, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, I’m the rebound. Nice to know you came to dinner with me just because no one was available.”“I think it may actually be the other way around.”
Relationships: Claire Darrow/Miles Strasburg
Kudos: 5





	It's been a long, long time

It had been comfortable- work talk and life talk for the whole evening, discussing Lou and Phoebe and Joanna and cases they’ve heard about or worked on in the past. Yes, they were dating, but Claire found herself oddly calm about this ordeal. It was Miles, after all- they had dated before. They had been dating, for God’s sake. Just because they were now kissing, because they had added a label to their relationship, calling it like it was instead of the mere “thing”. 

Yet, few weeks after closing Cassie’s case, as they were coming back from one of their dinners, the breath died in Claire’s throat. When she realized in the back of her mind that they were getting closer to Miles’ apartment complex, she suddenly found herself getting more and more uncomfortable with each step that got her closer to his doorstep. Her eyes glazing on the concrete, she swallowed, her muscles tensing. What was going to happen, she asked herself? Was even Miles bringing her there on purpose, or where they merely walking by? Did he want to invite her in? Did he expect anything from her?

More important… what did she want?She didn’t know the answer herself. Miles was the first man she was dating in over twenty years, and her late husband, he had been her high school sweetheart. Up to that point, he had been her first and only man. 

And now… there was Miles. 

Claire felt herself trembling. She didn’t know how to go about it. It was one thing sleeping with a boy when you are both losing your virginity, but how where you supposed to sleep with a man for the first time when you haven’t had a first time in over twenty years and you had been with just one man before him?

“Claire? Something wrong?” She jumped, taking a step back, her eyes as huge as saucers, when he gently skimmed over her shoulder, worried about her change of behavior. Yet, as he quizzically lifted an eyebrow behind his glasses, he found Claire oddly… amusing. No, Miles thought, amusing wasn’t the right word.

Claire was… _tantalizing_. 

“Do you want to have coffee? A nightcap?” He asked her, chuckling, as he gently guided her towards the steps that went to his apartment complex, his hand on the small of her back gentle, almost a shadow. 

_ Or maybe a ghost,  _ Claire wondered, closing her eyes and taking a big breath, feeling his touch burning her skin through the layers of fabric.“Sure, why not? Lou’s having a sleepover and my mum was supposed to have dinner with Coach at his place- and she told me not to wait for her.” She made a slightly disgusted face, but she was smiling. She was happy that Joanna had found someone, it was like her mother was cementing her presence in their lives and in their town, moving on from New York once and for all.

Miles sneakered, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, I’m the rebound. Nice to know you came to dinner with me just because no one was available.” 

“I think it may actually be the other way around.” She gently elbowed him in the side. “You mentioned dinner the other day at the office, and suddenly everyone was busy and I found myself all alone on a Friday night.” 

“God. You family playing match-maker for us. I’m not sure how I feel about it.” he admitted blushing slightly. He lazily scratched the back of his neck, and cleared his voice as he climbed the first of the steps of the Art Noveau building where he lived, turning to face Claire. “So… do you want to come in? I- Ah, I think I may have some scotch, and whisky, and if you want, I can prepare an Irish coffee to die for. I used to moonlight as a bartender in this Irish Pub back when I was at University. And in Law School. A lifetime ago. But I still have the touch, though. If you want.”

Smiling, Claire felt her eyes burn with tears of amusement. It was all right, she thought. Miles was as just as nervous as she was. Maybe even a little bit more. 

“If you got ice, I wouldn’t mind some whisky on the rocks.” She told him, smiling, suddenly flirty, as she moved past him and walked into the building without waiting for him.

“Right. Right.” He swallowed, thinking that she’d be his death, _but what a way to go._ “Fourth floor. There’s the elevator or the stairs.”

“Elevator’s fine. I haven’t been out of these heels for the whole day.” 

“Right. Right.” he said again, swallowing, his breath short, as he kept the door open for her. She leaned against the cold wall of the elevator car, her hands behind her back. She was smiling, kind, at him, finally realizing that they were in the same boat, after all. 

“Are you stuck, Miles? Because you’ve been just saying right for the last ten minutes, no matter what I said.” She asked him, rolling on her heels, flirty. 

“Right. I mean…” He closed his eyes, bit his lips, and sneakered at his own behavior. “I mean, _of course_ I know other words. They just escape me at this precise moment in time.”The elevator came to an halt, and he held the door open for her. 

“What, you are being blinded by my beauty?” She asked him, groaning a laugh behind her teeth and crossing her arms in front of herself. She was leaning against the wall, waiting for Miles to stop fumbling with his keys and open the door. 

Miles didn’t answer, he just chuckled. Finally opened the door, he ushered her inside, hands in his pockets like an unsure teenager. “So, welcome to my humble abode. I’d give you the tour but it’s pretty much all here.” 

She took a few steps and looked around, taken in by the atmosphere of his open space; Miles’ apartment was on the last floor, and, through a spiral staircase with wooden steps, you could access a mezzanine – maybe a former attic- where she guessed his bedroom was held. All in all, it was masculine and even a bit sterile – a bit too new. Grey and brown pieces of furniture from some department store, without a lot of soul. There wasn’t any picture lying around- just what appeared s aa picture book on the coffee table, brown leather, but it was closed. 

“I moved here after my wife died.” He admitted, answering her silent question. “We were just renting our place anyway, and most of our furniture either came with the place or was hers. My in laws asked me if I wanted anything, but…” He sighed, punching his nose at closed eyes. “I guess it hurt a bit too much. Especially at first. Besides, she had chosen pretty much everything – the place, the little pieces of furniture we had bought, and in the last few months, it became her sanctuary. I would have felt guilty, bringing someone else there. Even if she kept saying that she wanted for me to happy. To fall in love again.”

She smiled, kind, and looked at her feet. She knew, she knew all too well the weight of having to move on, to survive the love of your own life. But, differently from Miles, she hadn’t had any chances: she was still living surrounded by mementos of her late husband. After all, what was the choice? Derive Lou of her father’s legacy? She couldn’t do that to her own child. But Miles… Miles had been all alone, to no one to live for, no one to grieve with him. 

“So… that drink?” He asked clearing his throat. She turned around, smiling at him- bright as the sun, blinding, full of live and love and happiness like everything was right in the world – and took his hand in hers. Slowly, amazingly so, she closed the distance between them, so that their bodies were pressed together, fitting perfectly against each other. 

“I don’t want a drink,” she stated, letting her purse fall on the parquet, her mouth already finding his in what was their fifth kiss. She grabbed him for the label of his jacket, and pushed it off his shoulders. He wasn’t participating too much in the kiss – he lazily smiled against her mouth, letting her do as she wanted. 

She slid her arms around his neck, and looked at him between hooded eyes, quizzically. He smiled, and walked backwards, Claire still in his arms, towards the staircase, just to stop once he reached the first step. She clenched her eyes, and opened her mouth as to say something, but Miles surprised her. Laughing against her mouth, he took her in his arms, bridal style, and carried her in his bedroom. He let her fall on the soft mattress, and then joined her, caging her as he playfully kissed her all over. His hand inadvertently grazed her fabric-covered nipple, making shudder and gasp. As jolted awake by electricity, Miles stopped his ministrations, and out some distance between them. He sat on the bed on his knees, and allowed room for Claire to sit, her back against the pillows. 

“Sorry. I guess I was moving a bit too fast. Uh, that drink? Maybe right now may be a good time to…” He made to leave the bed, but Claire grabbed him for his sleeve and pulled him back at her side. Miles didn’t seem able to say a single word, he just looked in amazement at the woman before him, gently shaking her head as she smiled, cupping his face, her thumb skimming over his lip. 

“I’m not scared, Miles. And I want this- I want _you._ It’s just been a while, and…” she cleared her throat, looking at the handful of linen in her hand as she blushed furiously. “Uhm. I don’t really have a lot… experience. I… I haven’t dated after my husband, I mean, I did date, but I just dated _you,_ and before him… there wasn’t exactly a _before_. Matter of fact, there was no before, like, at all. If you get what I mean.” 

“I do.” He said. He leaned in her touch, and, once removed his glasses, he covered her hand with his, squeezing. He smiled, gentle, full of understanding – remembering himself the first time he had dared to dream of a future after his wife’s passing- and gently kissed her on the lips, just a caress. 

He made her lie down, on top of the covers, Claire’s hands on his neck, feeling his steady pulse on his jugular, his at her waist, eyes in the eyes, legs interlaced. “So, what are we doing?” She asked at low voice, as Miles rearranged their positions and rested his chin on the crown of her head, inhaling her scent, taking in all that was Claire Darrow. 

“We fall asleep. We just fall asleep.” He whispered in the dark, drawing invisible patterns on her shirt with his thumbs. “We don’t need to rush this. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she planted a kiss on his neck. “Good. Neither do I.”


End file.
